Invisìveis
by narratore
Summary: Church had lived through thousands of operations, and he had become what some would call a legend. His next target was on the 62nd floor of a skyscraper in Russia; he figured that this was a rookie op. That mistake would cost him his life.
1. Introduction

Invisìveis

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My name is Michael Conner, this is my story.

I was born in 1984 on May 1st at 10:43 in a small hospital in Maine; I was 5 pounds 7 ounces. I didn't cry at first, the doctors had to slap me to make sure my lungs were working. My father was there, this was the only time that he ever was involved in my life; he told my mother after he knocked her up that he was a responsible man and that he would stick around, and be a father. He gave her a ring, and she believed him, she thought she was in love; she was just out of high school, with high scores and grades, looking to the future and to a real life, with two kids, a loving husband and house with a white picket fence. Of course all of that changed; she doesn't know where he went, he went out into the hall to sign the birth certificate and that was the last she saw of him. That signature was all that I had of his. I used to lie on my bed on my back with the certificate held up to the light, tracing his signature with my finger, watching it trail off at the end. I imagined so many things about my father. That he was an undercover agent for the government, or a billionaire that I and mom got separated from on accident. My mother encouraged my imagination, afraid to tell me the truth. It wasn't until years later that I found out what he had done to my mother. By then harsh reality had shattered all of my dreams, the only thing I had left to hold onto was my mom. She truly was my life.

After she had recovered from my birth she realized what had happened, and unlike so many other women, she didn't imagine that he would come back to her. She abandoned romance, and within the month started working at a local convenience store. She would have gone back to her family, except she never knew who they were, she was an orphan and the state had put her through high school. She got a room at the YMCA and carried me everywhere she went. During that first two years, I lived in that store during the day. At first people would complain, but after a while they got used to me, even kind of began to like me, I guess I was like the mascot for the convenience store.

Whenever it was slow, my mom would either study or play with me. I didn't realize it until much later, but mom went to night classes at the local college until I was almost five. By that time she had a new job, working in a legal office as a secretary. At an early age I learned how to be quiet and hidden. By the time she graduated, she had an associate's degree and had caught the eye of a big city law firm. Almost all of the cases she had worked on had won. We ended up moving to New York, right when I started kindergarten. In six months time I had learned how to tie my shoes, add, subtract, and read. My mom would read with me when she came home at night. After a while we moved again, further into the city. I finished kindergarten in another school.

By the time I was in second grade I was reading far beyond my level and getting into fights; with the help of my mother I was transferred into an accelerated course and kept out of juvenile detention. By the time I started fifth grade at the local high school, I had several violations, and would have been suspended if my academic record hadn't been so good and if I wasn't in high school, when I should be in elementary school. My mom would tutor me every night, and had me enrolled in boxing, karate, gymnastics, swimming, judo, wrestling, and anywhere else she could sick my pent up anger and energy.

By this time my mother was one of the lawyers on some big time law firm, and with that came money, and with that money came a "solution" to my anger problems. She had decided that we needed to visit a psychologist together. I firmly objected to it, and when I realized that I didn't have a choice, began to plan. Within 6 months, I had read all of the required reading for a graduate degree in psychology at NYU and set to work spinning our "doctor" in circles. When my mother found out, I was grounded for two months; the only good thing that came out of the whole ordeal was something that was suggested surprisingly by the psychologist himself.

"Try including him in your work," he said to my mother, while I listened through the door, ignoring the eyes of his receptionist. "He's smart enough to do the job and he needs to feel like he's contributing."

Within the week I was summarizing cases, collecting information, and proof-reading documents for my mother. I stopped getting into fights, and instead turned my pent up rage towards my martial arts training. It took little enough time to earn my black-belt, and began to move from studio to studio, earning black in each and taking what I felt I needed.

We had our fights, but by the time I was turning sixteen I was working as my mother's secretary. I refused to go to college, and threatened to move out. I got angry enough that I wrote up a document for my emancipation, and left it in a stack of papers for her to sign. I didn't think it'd get past her, in fact, I don't think I really wanted it to. It was to my surprise that while I was checking the mail at the firm, that I found my proclamation with a return to sender stamp on it.

I hid it in my room, and forgot about it.

Two weeks later, I was jogging back from the local studio, to our home, I saw two men ringing the doorbell. I said hello and let them in, asking them who they were coming to talk to.

"Son," said the older of the two, "There has been an accident, your mother…." He looked at me expectantly, watching my face.

With a hint of irritation I replied, "What about my mother?"

The younger of the two stepped forward, "She was in a car accident, she…. didn't survive. We need you to identify the body." His arm stretched forward and rested on my shoulder, it wasn't until then that I realized that the color of his shirt was a dark blue, or that he was wearing a badge and a name tag, briefly, in the back of my mind I realized that I had walked right past their police car on my way to the door.

"No." The word leaving my mouth without my knowledge or permission.

"Yes son, we need you to come with us." He stood waiting.

I honestly don't remember getting into the car, or the ride there, all I remember is the door to the morgue as the officer in-front of me pushed it open; then the words tumbling out, "yes, that's her."

January 7th.

Three months.

Three months since the day…..

My things from work were in my room, what had happened?

I walked out of my room and down the stairs, the kitchen was sparkling clean as was the rest of the house. There wasn't dust anywhere, I searched the entire house. I went up to my mom's room, knocked, no answer… she must be at work. I opened the door, the whole room was covered in dust, almost as if no one had been in the room for weeks. Then it all came flooding back.

I remembered the night, and the next morning of the car crash. I remembered how they came to take me away; I remembered angrily shoving my mothers will in their face, followed by my writ of emancipation with her signature on the bottom. I remembered telling them to leave. I was slightly surprised when they did, realizing that this kid knew more than they thought. I remembered the quiet service, as they laid her body in the ground. I remembered cleaning off her desk and my desk at work, the quiet condolences from my old co-workers. I remember every day after that, every day the same. Wake up, jog ten miles. Come home, eat breakfast, dust, scrub and clean the house and garage, practice karate in the backyard, lunch, more practicing, shower, dinner, sleep.

It wasn't until now that I was aware; now that I really had comprehended and grieved.

I didn't know what to do.

I sat down with my head in my hands on my mom's bed.

I don't know how long I sobbed, but when I was finally done it was nighttime. I decided that now it was time to move on. I didn't know where I was going or what I was going to do. I just didn't know. I ended up giving most of my mother's things to goodwill, her diploma's and other nick-knacks I kept, placing them in my safety deposit box at our bank.

I ended up cleaning out and selling the house, it took a remarkable short amount of time too, but I guess housing in New York is hard to come by. I guess that's why it sold well, not that I cared, the realtor I had hired was overjoyed, it was easy enough to see that she would be making bank on this sale.

I moved into an apartment downtown and spent my time trying to find things to do. I went to college, just like my mother wanted, getting into NYU on scholarship; it was kind of pathetic how badly they wanted me enrolled. I ended up taking classes on anything, Childcare, Computer Forensics, Advanced Biology, Fencing, Engineering, Japanese Literature, Several Language Courses, Dance, and Auto Mechanics. I had already earned my associates degree during high school, unlike my late mother, and really didn't have a reason to be taking classes beyond doing something. Nothing satisfied me, and I ended up testing out of most of my classes within the first month.

I also did everything that I though that I would want to do, Skydiving, Hiking, Camping, Bunge Jumping, Sailing, I even learned how to fly a plane and a helicopter. I still remember the look on the flight instructor's face when I asked to test out. The sad thing about this is that nothing really satiated me. This constant learning, it wasn't getting me anywhere.

I didn't really sleep anymore, and whatever time wasn't spent studying, I spent at the local studio. Trying to balance myself with life around me, because I knew that I didn't fit anywhere. My sensei continually told me that I lacked a purpose, and despite the fact that I was the best student to ever take any of his classes, if I did not find purpose, he would no longer teach me.

I set to work at this, as I looked back, ironically, I had found a purpose, which was finding a purpose. The circular logic on that still confuses me to this day.

Oh, this day…

Yes, you must be wonder exactly what it is that I am doing on "this day".

Well currently, I'm standing on the top of a skyscraper in Russia.

And I'm about to jump off.

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Reviews welcome:

Please feel free to criticize my work, also any punctuation and grammar corrections submitted will be applied.


	2. Chapter 1

Well, not exactly jump off, I actually was going to repel… in a sense. I dropped for about fifteen stories then felt a sharp tug on my shoulders as the cable system I had rigged to the roof took effect. After the tug the cable slowed my body until I came to a stop on the 63rd floor, upside down. The room that I was going to infiltrate was just below me on the next floor.

Maybe I should explain exactly why I was hanging upside down on the side of a building 63 stories in the air. Sometime after the anniversary of my mother's death, I found myself at a career fair that my college was holding; I was standing in front of a booth advertising for the United States Military. A man of medium build and close cropped hair was quietly but firmly explaining the opportunities I might have in the military. I wasn't really paying attention to him until he grabbed my collar, I'm sure he was just trying to make a point, but I don't think he realized how stupid what he had just done was.

My body reacted instinctually my right hand closing around his left, my back foot stepping back and my front foot aligning itself between his legs; I gripped my fingers around his neck just a quarter of a second before my hips twisted and my front leg dipped down. Simple physics took effect and he was thrown off his feet and slammed down on his back.

I think I may have put more into it than I should have. Because my other hand was inches from his eye, with my fingers shaking from the effort of stopping my "reflex" before I took out his eye. I quickly stood up and was getting ready to apologize, when someone grabbed me from behind. I threw my body forward, shifting my weight and using my hands to help lever my attacker over my shoulder. I heard something crack and the young soldier I had thrown arched his back.

Oh shoot, that wasn't at all what I needed.

I walked backward, wary of anything behind me until my back was against a wall. The one remaining soldier was moving towards me, his hands held up near his face, fists clenched. I started to try to apologize and explain when he punched me in the mouth. Its not like I hadn't been hit before, in fact the guy didn't hit that hard, but something in me snapped. I didn't deserve this, I had cleaned up my act years ago, and this guy had no reason to hit me. I was even about to apologize. Then he hit me just hit me.

Suddenly a guttural snarl erupted from my throat, and for a quarter of a second the guy in front of me smiled. He must have misinterpreted the noise I had made. I decided to make sure that he understood what it really meant.

I shot my foot up and kicked him right in the chin, following up with an elbow slamming down on his face, and then finishing with a whirling sidekick. The young soldier flew backwards, his eyes already rolling up into the back of his head. The lieutenant or captain or whatever that I had taken out first was getting up, shoving the other recruiter off his legs, and was stumbling towards me with his fist raised. I know that I shouldn't have, but I turned with his punch, using a simple aikido move to throw him sideways against the wall.

By this time just about every member of the ROTC that was in the room had seen what had happened and was headed towards me. The bad thing was… right now, that was exactly what I wanted

The walls of the holding cell were covered in scratched graffiti made by the thousands of people it had held in the past. I was alone in the cell with my back against the far wall, staring out at the hallway. I was massaging my arm, one of the ROTC members had grabbed a chair, I wasn't expecting that. The back of my head hurt as well; I had been kicked back into a fire extinguisher box, the glass had shattered against my head, cutting around my ear and down the back of my neck. Most of the blood had dried into scabs, and none of the cuts were deep enough to warrant concern. My bag containing some text books and my laptop was currently hanging on the far wall, out of my reach. I could hear a muffled conversation coming out of the other room. Five minutes later two men dressed in military garb, came into my cell, a policeman locking the door behind them.

"Son," the man standing on the right said. "Do you realize how much trouble you're in?"

"I think so, it depends; I have a couple of questions." I replied coolly. The way I replied took them aback.

"Son, your in an extreme amount of trouble, and that's how you respond?!?" The other one barked.

"Well, the amount of trouble I'm in is determined by whether or not Private Thompson is okay."

"You're worried about the man's laptop computer?" The first man said in a weak voice.

"Oh," I responded thinking back on the fight, "So his back wasn't broken?"

"What do you mean son, you threw the kid onto his computer, and it broke in two. He has some mild bruising, but he's fine."

"Oh good, then yes, I think I know how much trouble I'm in then; are they going to be taking any legal action against me?"

"Son you attacked an officer of the united states military. You don't do something like that and get away with it." The second officer said pointedly.

"Actually… sir, I didn't attack him, he grabbed me, so technically he attacked me.. sir"

"Son you really think that will hold up in a court of law?"

"Do you know who I am?" I asked.

"Yes we do, and actually we wanted to offer you something."

"And that is?"

"Offer wouldn't be the right word, your going to be attending basic training."

"And if I refuse…" I asked

"We're going to be charging you in court, and we will win."

"Oh, really?" I stated, authority had never really bothered me, and these two men may be trying, but I wasn't really intimidated.

"Look kid, we've been watching you for a while, and quiet simply we know that you are looking for a reason to live. Sure you study like crazy, and exercise your brains out, but you don't do anything. You don't make a difference. You," he said while poking me with a finger. "kid are nothing; we can change that, but its your choice." With that final statement, they called for the police officer and both of them left the room. I noticed that the first officer had left his card by the cell door. I walked over and grabbed it. All it gave me was a name and a number, no other information.

I was released that night, and got a bus ride to the school so that I could get my motorcycle and drive home.

I spent the rest of that night and the next couple of days thinking about it. I dialed the number a number of times, but always hung up on the first ring. Despite my indifference what the man said had, it had struck me. And it didn't leave my thoughts. I was so sure that this wasn't what I wanted to do it, but I couldn't stop thinking about it.

When it got to the point that I couldn't sleep, I made the decision to call the number and talk to someone.

"Hello," answered a gruff voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, my name is Mich……"

"We know who you are," he interrupted "Why are you calling kid?"

"I want to do this, who do I talk to." I asked

'Look, kid I'm going to make this simple. If you want to do this, you have to be one hundred percent sure. Because as soon as you get in, there is no getting out."

"I…. I'm sure." I said.

"It doesn't sound like it kid, call back when you are, we don't want a deadbeat." Then there was a click and the line went dead.

I stood there with my phone against my ear until the dial tone sounded.

I sat down against my bed, for some reason I had lost all hope. I tried rationalizing; I kept trying to tell myself that there wasn't anything different about life, that just because some guys I didn't know showed up and told me I was nothing. In truth, though, my mind would not let it go, and I believed them. I wanted to be something; I wanted to make a difference. I was sick and tired of not making a difference.

I don't know how long I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at nothing. But suddenly I found myself on my knees crying into my bed. I found my hands clasped together, and suddenly I was praying.

My lips moved of their own accord, and I cried to my mother, asking her to come back to me, to make it all right, I pleaded with god, telling him how angry I was that he took my mother away, and how hard it was without her. I told him how I didn't want to live anymore, because I didn't do anything. I told him that I needed him, and that I was so tired of feeling angry and alone.

I stopped when my alarm clock went off, I had prayed all night. I felt empty of all emotion, and to be honest it was nice being able to feel nothing. After a while my mind turned back towards the offer. I felt…… good about it, it took me a while to recognize what I was feeling, it had been so long since I felt good.

I knew what I had to do, I called the number on the card.

It rang three times, then the same voice on the other line picked up, "Hello."

"I'm in." I said.


	3. Chapter 2

I hung upside down in the air, my body twisting slightly. I adjusted the internal computer for my suit down to 45°, and ran a quick system check to make sure that it was sealed; I had been unable to find the specifications on the security system on this floor, or any other information for that matter; even the blueprints at the city office indicated that this floor didn't exist. I had made a number of infrared scans from the top of buildings located nearby, as well as gotten a job as a janitor two weeks before hand to familiarize myself with the building.

I was unsure about infiltrating the building, but this was classified as a high priority mission, and sitting around wouldn't make the blueprints magically appear. Luckily my suit was specially designed for this type of infiltration; the suit was equipped with a full body temperature regulation system and made out of a fabric that rendered ultrasonic and microwave based motion detectors obsolete. In addition, the suit emitted a light EMP which cut out electronics near it momentarily.

In addition there was a complete night vision mask, equipped with an EEV, Thermal Imaging, Electronic Impulse Mapping (EIM), and a heads up display (HUD) which was connected to an internal computer. There was a breathing mask, equipped with a filtration system.

Praying that this office wasn't set up with a new type of security system that my suit wouldn't compensate for, I cut open the sealing holding the window in place. I slid a hair-thin clamp past the shredded sealant and around to the other side of the window hooking it into place. Then I gently pulled the glass away from its frame, using the suction cup on the other side of the clamp, tilted it over and around until it was resting against the window above it. I pulled a stick of dark grey chalk like substance out of the pack attached to my chest. I rubbed it all along the edges of the glass, then attached a small wire from to the clamp and hung it down until it was touching the bottom of the window frame. I then replace all of my equipment.

Staring straight down and taking a deep breath, I lifted my hands above my head and gripped the cables holding my body in the air. I pulled myself up with my arms, angled the legs out until I was almost sitting in a very low squat position. Then I slammed my feet against the building, hard.

I sailed out into the night air my body dropping another foot and a half at my apex, and then I shot back toward the building. I disconnected the cable on my right, which promptly retracted up the building. This action turned my body sideways, and as I swung into the building, I disconnected the other cable, as soon as I cleared the window frame, and my body was thrown into a sideways summersault as the rope whiplashed me into the room. I landed lightly on a desk, and bounded off, racing toward the floor, at the last second I pushed my legs out so the gently touched the floor, then used them like shocks to lower my body to the ground. I double checked my decibel meter in my HUD. No sound.

I waited for a second longer.

….. Nothing.

I quickly walked over to the window, pulling out a black stick this time, and traced the entire frame again. I put it away, being careful to make the zipper close silently and began to stalk through the office, I was heading towards the server farm. The thermal scans I had done had indicated that there was a large amount of heat and extreme cooling on this floor, right where I was headed. I turned on my thermal imaging, and overlaid it with my HUD. I continued on the direction indicated by the temperature imaging until I stopped in font of a door in a long corridor. There was no handle, only a keypad, and a handprint scanner.

Up and to the right was a camera. It was stationary, good. I went over to it, taking out a small handheld camera and filmed the empty hallway. I set the handheld on a loop, and then taped it to the security camera. I surveyed my handy work then walked back over to the door.

I jumped up, planting my legs against either side of the wall, staggering my feet slightly so that I had more room to work on the key pad and handprint scanner.

I sprayed the panel for the scanner down with a small aerosol can, and then disconnected the front of the keypad. I took out a small code breaking module, designed for these types of systems, and attached it in place of the keypad.

Then I turned off the EMP on my suit.

The camera clicked to life, and I heard a slight humming as the panel beneath me lit up.

I clicked the access button on the code breaker I had attached to the key pad, and the numbers along the face began to whirl. I waited a moment for the code breaker to read success, while taking out a small plastic sheet. When the light on the module switched to yellow, then I pressed the sheet against the scanner.

Nothing happened.

That was unusual.

I took a second to think.

Then I ran an ultraviolet scanner on the panel, careful to cover the side of it, so that the security camera didn't pick up any ambient light.

There weren't any fingerprints.

Now, that was unusual.

I magnified my display by ten.

Nothing

I tried increasing the magnification to one hundred times.

Still nothing.

Something was wrong.

Most companies had their handprint scanners wiped down at the end of the day, put there was almost always left over dead skin that the windex wouldn't pick up. To keep the panel completely clear, it would have to be sealed airtight, after that a bacterial compound, would destroy any of the left over DNA. This bacteria compound was not only extremely expensive (it was genetically engineered due to the fact that a completely efficient form didn't exist naturally), but incredibly dangerous as well. The airtight seal would have to be perfect, then bleached and heated so that all of the bacteria was destroyed.

For the first time in a while, I wasn't sure what to do.

Complete the mission.

That was all the mattered

I took a deep breath to settle myself.

I began to gently disassembled the panel, careful to make little to no noise. This took a couple of minutes, which was equal to hours under the circumstances. I pulled up the schematic for the panel on my suit computer, the diagrams rolled across my HUD. I dissected the portion of the panel needed, connecting needed section and disconnected others. Then finally I connected two wires and re-accessed the code breaker.

The door unlocked, I reassembled the panel, and the keypad, and made sure that there was physical evidence that I was even there. I pushed against the slightly open door and walked into the server room.

After entering the room, and closing the door behind me; I went over to the nearest processing unit and stripped the back off. I spliced a small sensor to one of the cables, and then replaced the cover. I did this to each server, then sent a job completed confirmation, I waited a second, then a green confirmation light blinked on in my HUD.

I opened the door, and headed down the hallway. I navigated the twisting corridors, until I reached the office that I had first entered.

Someone was sitting on the desk.

I looked that the small slip of paper I held in my hand. On it I had written the address of the man who I spoke to on the phone. I was standing on the other side of the street from the building I was considering walking into. The apartment number I was given was located in that building, a little more modern than most buildings and an interesting gray white color.

I stood still for a moment, considering, then I waited for the road to clear, and walked across. I walked through the revolving door, past the doorman, and into the foyer. The apartment was located on the fifth floor, I took the stairs.

I walked through the hallways until I found apartment 5107 and knocked on the door. I waited about fifteen seconds, then there was some grumbling, and a grizzled old man opened the door.

"What," he said.

"I'm here, for my…. opportunity." I recognized his voice, but didn't allow the surprise to show across my face, this was the same man I spoke to on the phone.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes."

"It won't be easy you know."

"No it won't, but I'm going to do it."

"My, my you seem determined. What changed?"

"Does it matter?"

"No not really, boy, but I'm allowed to be curious." With that he turned back around and hobbled back into the apartment. I wasn't sure what to do, but I assumed he wanted me to follow him. I eased open the door, noticing that it had a metal core, and walked into one of the biggest apartments I had ever seen.

The front room was about sixty to seventy feet square, and it went up a second story, to the far left you could see an open kitchen with a spiraling metal staircase that led up to the second level, and to the right a series of doors that I assumed lead to rooms. The inside was for the most part unfurnished, no drywall decorated the brick walls, and most of the support beams were uncovered. To the left just after entering there was a rack of weights and directly across from the door, there was a shelf covered in close quarters weapons both modern and archaic. In the middle of the floor there was a raised platform made out of thick wooden planks.

The man was hobbling around the raised platform headed towards the kitchen. I could hear his cane tapping along the tile floor as he walked.

"So, boy, from what they tell me and from the videos; you're quite a fighter." He was sitting on one of the chairs in the kitchen. I didn't say anything, it wasn't a question.

"So I'm interested if you can… improvise."

"What do you mean?"

"The kind of thing we do here is not easy, in fact it's not hard, its hell."

"Are you trying to scare me?"

"Maybe, I'm still not sure. You see kid, even though you're good, good isn't enough. I need to know what you can do, and when, I don't care about the why. But I need you good enough, because if you get caught, your dead."

"Is this some sort of spy thing; are you training me to become a spy?"

"Kid, here's the other thing, don't ask questions, at least not stupid ones. If you can figure out what we do here, keep it to yourself, because if you don't, you'll die. Gossips and blabber mouths don't live long in this business." Part of me was tempted to ask him what kind of business this was, but I didn't want to mess up my chances.

I started to ask him what we were going to do next, but before I got the opportunity his cell phone rang.

"Yes" he answered. There was some mumbling on the line.

"We have to finish here first, then well get him modified and up to date." This was followed by a short reply.

"A week at most, this one looks soft….. No I'm not going to try to go faster…. Do you want to…. No….I'll push him………..don't……yes, I can do that." With that he ended the looked at me for a second, I think he was wondering if I was going to ask him what that we about.

"Oh so you can be quiet? Interesting….Mark, David come over here." Two men emerged from one of the doors to the right, and walked up to the old man. They were both wearing simple white sleeveless shirts and white cotton pants. The stood at his side silently, he motioned to the one on his left, and he bent down. He whispered something in his ear, the man straightened nodded and came at me like a bullet train.


	4. Chapter 3

"What are you doing here?"

I had frozen in place automatically, my body reacting to the danger; I was absolutely sure that no one could have seen me, I double checked my photometer, confirming that I was in total darkness. I thought back, I hadn't made any noise, and I had removed all of my equipment. This must have been an inside job, I instantly confirmed, otherwise there was no other way to know that I was here.

I shifted slightly, turning my body so that I presented less of a target, as well as moving my hand closer to my pistol, and flash grenades. The man who had spoken was sitting leisurely facing the open window.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" He hummed over my shoulder. His voice had a musical melodic quality, it seemed unreal. He sat there for a moment, his head cocked to the side as if he was listening, then he shook his head slightly, allowing a brief glance at a wide dazzling smile.

Something was wrong. Something deeply wrong. I didn't know this person, he was acting so …. Playfully, almost like he was a cat and I was the mouse he was chasing.

"I've been watching you for quiet some time." He continued, sliding off the desk and walking over to the window. He still didn't turn around, a face, I need a face, something, anything. Who was he? The other part of my brain was screaming at me, following me, he's been following me. How? I've been so careful.

"Since that job in Madrid, actually, it was quiet something, I never expected anyone to do things so ….. passionately." He had his hands clasped behind his back now, in the light I could see that his skin was pale white. He seemed to caress words, almost like he was performing a poetic masterpiece. Give me a sign, a face, anything, anything! I could feel my body releasing endorphins into my bloodstream, heightening my reflexes. Making me faster, stronger.

Who he was didn't matter anymore, he was compromising the mission. I could not allow the mission to be compromised. He had been following me since Madrid, so clearly he didn't work for whoever owned this building. His presence here would compromise things. I had to deal with him.

"It took me three weeks to find you again, by then I knew what…." He began in the musical voice, but in that instant my decision was made. My pistol left the holster on my leg and was pointed at his back just as quickly as I thought it. I felt it kick against my hand and listened to the quiet pop of its discharge. My body was moving before the bullet left the gun. I ran towards him, vaulting the desk, and jumping over his head.

He flinched slightly as the bullet hit him, and then whirled around to face me, by then I was already in the air above his head. He flinched, just flinched, the other half of my mind screamed to me, he was just shot in the back of the head, and he just flinched.

He made a grab in the air, and missed me by mere inches; I was out the window, my fingers automatically closed around the wire. I pulled it and the window swung closed, the edges heating as the chemical reaction occurred, sealing him inside. The clamp above the window, detached, and burned away. I surveyed the look on his face, a look of disbelief. Then he simply disappeared.

I didn't have the time to ponder what happened, I was currently falling towards the street below. I pulled the cord to my parachute, and I shot open behind me, slowing my descent slightly. I was still spinning and I had to stop that before my chute would open completely and keep me from crashing into the ground, effectively terminating my ability to continue taking orders.

I tucked my right arm and leg in slightly, spreading my left arm and leg out an inch. Within seconds my body had completely righted itself, and I felt the sharp jerk and the drop in my stomach as a moment later the chute opened up.

I landed on the fire escape of a nearby apartment complex and after rolling the landing painfully I pulled up and repacked my chute. I didn't have time to check for tears, I needed to get as far away as possible. I couldn't leave any evidence, and I needed to move out and recap my mission back to HQ.

I blinked the green confirmation light twice, indicating that I had left the office building and was safely on the street. Then the red once, to indicate that no one should approach me, and that I would be entering into radio silence for at least four hours.

I continued down the fire escape to the backpack that I had taped to the outside on the second floor. I detached it with my knife, and then slowly opened the window to the apartment. I had checked this apartment previously, it was empty and in the process of being refurbished. Closing the window behind me I walked into a backroom undressed from my gear in silence and quickly pulled on the designer jeans, t-shirt, jacket and shoes.

I put the backpack on, along with a jacket that I had purchased, and cautiously opened the door out into the hallway, pulling out a small aluminum canteen, filled with watered down vodka, I spilled it out on my shirt and jacket, then washed my mouth with it. I held it in one hand, and stumbled out in the hallway. I slowly made my way down to the alleyway and stumbled out onto the sidewalk.

I stumbled back and forth, using the wall to hold me up, until I reached an underground rave party. I stumbled into the line, and looked up at the bouncer.

"I'm really ththirrsty." I said slurring the words, and pitching backwards slightly. I spoke English in an attempt to make it look like I was a rich American brat. The bouncer said nothing.

"I said I'm really thhirrssty, why don't you let me get a drrrinkk," I tumbled into him slightly then pointed with my finger at his sternum. "I jussttt want a drink." He grabbed me, and pulled my up in the air by my shirt. Then stared at me for about five seconds, and then set me down.

I wandered off for a second, then came back.

"Look misssterrr, I need a drink, I'm really reaaally thirsty."

"Get lost" Finally something, something I could work with.

"I am lllossst." I slurred. "I need a ddrinkk too ffind my way hooommmmeee." I mumbled singing the last part.

"Leave or I will deal with you myself."

"Oooh that sssounds kinky." He looked like he was about to say something, paused and reconsidered and threw a right hook.

I ducked and spun to the right, passing by the bouncer, and ran into the club cackling like a drunken mad man.

The bouncer chased after me, but he had to turn around and stop the flood of ravers that wanted in. I moved over to the dance floor, cutting through subtly, dancing as I moved, until I was at the other side. Then I walked towards the backroom.

I opened a door into a utility closet; closing and locking it behind me. Then I went over to the far wall, where I had a small secure room built and stocked. I softly pulled a lever behind a water pipe, causing the wall in front of me to slide forward. I entered in a seven digit code on the keypad it located in the middle of the metal door behind the wall.

I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me and immediately the sound cut off. I sighed, happy to be getting some sleep, and took of the drenched shirt and jacket. I headed towards the bed, issuing voice commands to close the door and lock down the room. I could hear the quiet hiss of the hydraulics as the door shut and the room locked down, I laid on the bed, closing my eyes, and letting out a huge breath that I'd been holding from the very beginning.

"So this is where you were hiding." said a voice from above me.

The one who I assumed was David, slammed into me at what felt like a thousand miles an hour. My head snapped back against the wood, bouncing against the paneling and causing my vision to cut out for a moment. I brushed the pain aside, angling my slightly and shoving my elbow up into his diaphragm. He grunted, rolling off of me and pulling himself up. I rolled towards him, kicking my leg out and catching him in the side of the face.

He rolled back, as I kicked up off the floor, shoving my feet out and throwing my arm into the air. At the apex of my jump I arched my back throwing my feet behind me and popping my arms up in a defensive posture. I ended up with my back against the far wall, and one foot on the platform.

I looked up and immediately threw myself to the right as Mark slammed a heavy staff down right where I had been standing. I head a distinctive groaning sound and watched in awe as three long racks of dumbbells bent and fell to the floor. Mark was crouched with the broken weapon in his hands, bits of wood falling around him like rain.

I did the one thing that to this day I can't believe I have ever done.

I flipped him off.


End file.
